


Closing The Circuit

by IamShadow21



Series: Signs and Souls [3]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Begging, Biting, Deaf, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint, Deaf Clint Barton, Dom/sub Undertones, Enthusiastic Consent, Fingerfucking, First Time, Frottage, Good Sex, Hearing aids, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild Painplay, Mild S&M, Neck Kissing, Negotiations, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Nipples, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sensation Play, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Telepathic Sex, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2243409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamShadow21/pseuds/IamShadow21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bedroom's awash with stripes of morning sun. The bed's still in disarray from Clint's sleep the night before. There's a thrumming tension between them that's been present from the moment they met, from the second Phil's hand pressed Clint back into stiff hospital sheets and tried to make himself known through fumbled signs and gentle touch.</p><p>Phil hasn't let go of Clint, but he's looking a little lost. His glasses are sitting crookedly, and he's breathing through slightly parted lips. “How...?” he begins, then stops.</p><p>“I'm gonna leave them in,” Clint says. “Today, anyway.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing The Circuit

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note that there is NO ASL in this one, but there is discussion of hearing aids, specifically about the use of them during sex, and I've tried to focus a lot more on the other senses, particularly touch, since Clint is the POV character this time!
> 
> Anyone a bit daunted by the tags, I was being thorough. **There is no hardcore kinky BDSM in this story.** As established in their make-out in the last story, Phil was pretty enthusiastically giving Clint hickeys, this is just a slight expansion of that. Also, this isn't really THAT D/s. Power dynamics is more accurate. Basically, Clint is bossy and encourages Phil to be bossy too. It works for them, it's not a 'scene', and both of them really enjoy having an assertive partner. And if you're worried that any fics with D/s overtones tend to be too serious and focussed on roleplay, this is not that story.
> 
> I also used the telepathic sex tag, even though it's closer to a shared heightened sexual experience than actual mindreading.
> 
> Anyone who doesn't like porn, feel free to skip this one, I don't think there's anything vital you need to know besides they made it to the bedroom and a good time was had.

The bedroom's awash with stripes of morning sun. The bed's still in disarray from Clint's sleep the night before. There's a thrumming tension between them that's been present from the moment they met, from the second Phil's hand pressed Clint back into stiff hospital sheets and tried to make himself known through fumbled signs and gentle touch.

Phil hasn't let go of Clint, but he's looking a little lost. His glasses are sitting crookedly, and he's breathing through slightly parted lips. “How...?” he begins, then stops.

“I'm gonna leave them in,” Clint says. “Today, anyway.”

Phil looks a little relieved. “You're not getting undressed,” he says, clumsy, like his filter's shot. 

Clint smiles slowly. “I could be wrong, but you look like you'd like to unwrap me yourself,” he says.

Phil's hands flutter on Clint's sides and his face heats red. 

“Go on,” Clint murmurs. “Take what you want.”

Phil's eyes, which were half-shut, snap open. His pupils are blown wide, and he licks his lips in an unconscious motion that just hones Clint's focus right in on them. He's spent a long time looking at Phil's mouth over the last few weeks. It's expressive, soft, and wide, quick to smile and easy to read, though if he's truly honest, a lot of the time Clint's been picturing those lips around his cock. 

Phil's hands on Clint's sides become firm, possessive, like they had been in the kitchen, before Phil's little doorway crisis of confidence, and Clint's heart kicks up a notch.

“That's it,” he says on a sucked-in breath. “Move me how you want me.”

Phil's mouth drops back to Clint's neck, sucking, biting a little, and oh, that's good. Clint tilts his head, slides a hand up to hold Phil there, to steer Phil to the sensitive places. Phil's hands slide back under Clint's shirt, shove it up to his armpits. He only pulls away from mauling Clint's neck for long enough to tug the shirt up and off.

“My nipples are really sensitive,” Clint whispers in Phil's ear. “I've never come from it, but if you do that to my chest, I'm gonna leak all over myself and beg for permission to finish myself off.”

Phil lets out a high sound, needy, and Clint loves it. He wants to hear it again, so he grabs Phil's cock through his pants in a firm hand. Phil tenses up all over, and his cock jumps against Clint's palm. Clint feels that jump echo through him, feels himself twitch hard in sympathy.

“I need,” Phil chokes out, and presses a single kiss to Clint's throbbing neck before stepping back and stripping off his glasses, shirt and pants in a handful of efficient movements. He reaches forward, and with a tug and a shove, Clint's pants are around his ankles. Clint grins cheekily and steps backwards out of them towards the bed.

“Come get me then,” Clint says, dropping back onto the mattress and spreading his legs.

Phil's half a second behind him, crawling up Clint's body and pressing him down firm into the sheets. He spends about thirty seconds giving Clint about the most thorough kiss he's ever had, before kissing his way down to Clint's chest.

He doesn't mess around, sucking Clint's nipple into hardness before biting down. A sound punches its way out of Clint's throat, and his hand flies up to hold Phil in place.

“That's a yes, then?” Phil asks, his voice breathless but amused.

“Don't stop,” Clint pants.

Phil licks and sucks and bites Clint's nipples until they're red and sore, until his skin is buzzing and his hips are twitching up with every bite.

“I'm going to give you a choice,” Phil says eventually, casual and almost-amused. “Either I suck you off, or I lie down on you properly and keep doing this and you rub off against me until you come all over yourself.”

Clint whines, his hips giving a hard jerk. “I want both,” he slurs, his hands moving across, Phil's shoulders and neck restlessly. 

“Well, you can't have both,” Phil says, and he's definitely smiling.

“Don' wanna choose,” Clint says.

“Well, I can stop,” Phil says, shifting like he's going to move away.

“No! Don't. Suck me, your mouth, I want,” Clint says, his verbal language falling to pieces.

“Good,” Phil says, sounding pleased. “Don't move, stay right there.”

Phil kisses down, further down, and the closer Phil gets, the faster Clint's lungs work, the harder his heart thuds in his chest. He can't stay still, he's trying, but his body wants to _move_.

Phil stays above Clint's cock for a suspended moment, holding his eye contact for what feels like the longest time. Clint can understand the sentiment, because the second Phil opens his mouth and dips down, the second that mouth Clint's been watching for weeks curls around his cock, Clint commits that image to memory, as spank-fodder for the rest of his life.

The cry that bursts from his lips is more than a little desperate. His jerking hips get forced down, hard, and when Clint reaches up to pinch his abused nipples, he cries out again. Phil groans around Clint's cock in response, a wordless call-and-answer, and Clint's never really believed all those Cosmo columns about heightened bond sex (he spends a lot of time in the waiting-rooms of medical professionals, okay?) but he's rethinking his position in a hurry.

“You need to get in me, really, seriously,” he begs.

“Not going to happen,” Phil says, though Clint thinks his voice is wistful under the gravel.

“Then fingers, one finger, anything, I need,” Clint says.

“Shhh, okay,” Phil says, suddenly there, cradling Clint's face and kissing his lips. “Hold on a minute.”

Phil leans over and rummages in a drawer while Clint tries not to fly apart. “It's... more, right? I'm not just freaking out over awesome oral sex?”

“It's more intense than I'd predicted,” Phil says with a huff of a laugh, back with lube in hand. “Based on what I'd read, anyway.”

“You read Cosmo too?” Clint asks, and Phil's grin broadens.

“I'm going to tease you about that later,” he says like a heartfelt promise. “No, there were studies done, about ten years ago, in _The Journal of-_ ”

Clint cracks up. “You looked up science journals about bonded sex, and I'm the ridiculous one?”

“Maybe we can tease each other,” Phil says.

“Gonna hold you to that,” Clint says. “You don't have to warm it, I like it a little on the cold side.”

Phil pumps a couple of squirts out of the bottle and dumps it back in the drawer. Clint spreads his legs a little wider. “And I like it firm from the start. Once you're in, go to town, just don't hammer my prostate until you're ready for me to come,” he warns.

Phil nods then reaches down, fingers slick. The cold is good, another sensation layering over the burn of his chest and neck and the urgent throb of his dick. Phil's finger probes for a minute or so until Clint's used to the touch, and then he presses right in, a slow, steady penetration that steals all the breath in Clint's lungs. His cock twitches hard, another drop of precome hitting his belly. A careful in-and-out, and Clint's begging.

“Your fingers, give me, I need,” he says, and Phil moans.

The next thrust is a little rougher, more a jab than a glide.

“Yes, that, please,” Clint babbles. “Phil, please.”

“I've got you,” Phil says, rubbing his other hand across the top of Clint's belly. “Pinch your nipples for me, let me see.”

Clint's back bows with the overload, his breath escaping in short, hard pants as he rocks between his own fingers and Phil's.

“Could you come like this, I wonder?” Phil muses, his hand hot, rubbing a circle under Clint's ribs.

“Yes,” Clint says instantly. “Yes I'm nearly, but, your mouth, your mouth.”

Phil's teasing expression shifts to intense focus. He shuffles down Clint's body, tugging one of Clint's legs down a little with him before straddling it. Phil's cock is a hard wet heat against Clint's shin. Clint immediately moves against it, giving Phil enough pressure that he trembles all over, sending delightful vibrations up through Phil's still moving fingers.

“Don't stop touching yourself,” Phil orders. He waits for Clint to give a shaky nod, and then he takes Clint in his mouth again.

It's like closing a circuit. For a second, Clint thinks he's come instantly, but then he realises as Phil's finger seeks out and finds his prostate that he hasn't.

“There,” he forces out. “Oh, there, oh, oh...”

Phil shivers violently and moans around Clint's cock, that high, desperate whine from earlier, but muffled by Clint's body. Phil's cock is sliding a wet trail up Clint's leg with every snap of his hips, and it all comes to a tipping point very, very quickly. Clint is twisting both nipples sharply, bright stars of pain, when Phil thrusts his cock forward and simultaneously hits Clint's prostate with two slick fingers. Clint's shout echoes off the walls, a heavy push of sound that buzzes through him. Clint vaguely registers Phil's voice beneath his own as a delicious vibration against his skin, the way he senses the slip of come and spit sliding down his dick around the imperfect seal of Phil's lips. Phil's mouth never stops, and he coaxes Clint though a series of aftershocks, each strong enough to make him moan, to draw another drop of come from him when he thinks he's been sucked dry. Somewhere in the haze between aftershock four and five, a hot splash of semen stutters against Clint's leg, and he's aware enough to push up a little, to work Phil through his orgasm. Phil's cock trails through the mess in ever diminishing pushes as it cools, as he nuzzles and kisses down Clint's shaft to his sac, and then eventually collapses sideways with a satiated hum. 

“Next time,” Clint decides, when he's got his breath back enough to speak, “You're doing that inside me.”

“Only if you're willing to wait four days,” Phil says, from where his head is pillowed on Clint's thigh. His voice is a ruined, sexy rumble, almost foreign, and Clint decides it's his new favourite thing, after bonded sex, coffee, pizza and his bow. “I'm not, for the record,” Phil adds, unashamedly.

“Next time, in me, and I'm taking my aids out. I'm going to ride you, keep my hands on your chest for balance, but mainly so I can feel all the noises you're making, and we're both gonna shout loud enough to scare your neighbours,” Clint says firmly. He feels Phil's hips give a little twitch at that, feels the head of Phil's softening cock slip a little in the come that's starting to become tacky, and grins in satisfaction.

“I think you might have scared them already,” Phil says, his lips curving into a smile against Clint's skin. “For a guy who talks with his hands half the time, you're really loud.”

“Oh, baby,” Clint says, “You have no idea what I'm capable of. We are going to have to bake so many plates of 'sorry we fucked loud enough to shake the pictures off your wall' cookies.”

Phil laughs, just a gentle burst of breath and sound. “I don't think that's a thing.”

“They're gonna have to be,” Clint promises, “because that was _awesome_.”

“Probably just as well I can bake,” Phil says, “because it really was.”


End file.
